Son of Neptune
by Morwen Tindomerel
Summary: What went on at Camp Jupiter while Percy, Hazel and Frank were on their quest.
1. Kelly I

Kelly knew the new guy was trouble the minute she laid eyes on him. The gorgons chasing him were the first hint then Juno sealed the deal by naming him a son of Neptune. Great, just great, the last descendant of Neptune to join the Legion had demolished their camp and the city of San Francisco. Reyna seemed equally thrilled as she ordered everybody back to their duties and took the new guy and Hazel of the Fifth into the Principia.

"That was impressive," Vicki said as they disappeared from view.

"He's Neptune's, that means trouble," Kelly answered.

"We already got trouble," her second pointed out.

"Exactly, we don't need more!" Kelly turned on her heel and headed down the via Praetoria and past Bombilo's to the Fourth Cohort's block of barracks with Vicki trailing behind her.

Things had been going steadily downhill ever since Jason's disappearance. Damn the Fifth and their thrice damned curse! First Jason was just gone – from the middle of camp yet – then every set of searchers also vanished without a trace so now the legion was down one praetor, a tribune, five centurions and an even dozen other ranks, losses they could ill afford with monster attacks increasing _and_ not staying dead once killed. Something very bad was going down, worse even than Saturn's war, and the legion was understrength and out of luck – and to top it all off there were fauns on the porch!

Kelly came to a full stop both physically and metaphorically. The barrack facing onto the via Praetoria was fronted by a long porch under a red tiled roof supported by wooden posts carved to look like doric columns. A row of standards hung from the eaves: two were scarlet, emblazoned with the lightning bolt of the XIIth Legion and the horse of the Fourth Cohort, and one was blue and embroidered with a golden Roman numeral one above the cohort motto: _Grasso, Planto Nostrum Dies*_. Three fauns crouched on their shaggy haunches under the proud banners, tails to the street, curly mops bent intently over something on the ground between them. Kelly glared, inhaled and roared "Felix!"

A head as dark and curly as any faun's bobbed up to show his tribune a pair of faux-innocent eyes. "What? Gambling isn't against regs as long as it isn't for money."

"No. Fauns. In. Camp." Kelly grated between clenched teeth.

"But nobody else will play against me," Felix whined as the fauns in question cowered behind him. "They're not bothering anybody."

"They're bothering _me_!"

Felix looked at Vicki, found no support there, and sighed. "Okay, okay. Keep your hair on, Kel." He turned to the fauns, "Guess you guys better go. Here," he bent to scoop up a double handful of the reeses pieces that had been serving as stakes, and handed them out, "for your trouble."

"Gee, thanks man!"

"Yeah, chocolate yum!"

"You're the best, Felix." The fauns made a big circle around Kelly and trotted off down the via Praetoria to the gates.

"What put the pilum up your podex?" Felix grumbled following the two girls into Kelly's office.

It was the largest room in the barracks decorated with color blocked walls beneath high set, grated windows and furnished with racks of training weapons and two desks, one for Kelly and one for her Decuranus Pompey Liberanus. Voices through the open back door told the three officers he was currently on the training ground behind the barracks making some legionaries lives miserable with a punishment drill.

Kelly sat down behind her desk as Vicki stared at Felix disbelievingly. "Don't tell me you missed all the excitement!"

"I was busy. So what was all the yelling about?"

"Oh nothing much, just a son of Neptune chased by two gorgons and Juno Moneta in person," Vicki answered rolling her eyes.

"Wow, really?" For a minute Felix only looked interested, then the other sandal dropped. "Wait, Neptune? Like the guy who caused the 1908 earthquake?"

"You got it."

He turned to Kelly. "No wonder you're so grumpy."

She swept up the loose papers littering the marble top of her desk and slapped them into her outbox. "The last thing we need around here is more bad luck!"

"Yeah, but if Juno brought him maybe he'll be good luck," Felix countered.

"I hate to say it but Felix has got a point there," Vicki put in. "Juno is on our side she wouldn't bring a threat into the valley."

"She might if she wants us to dispose of him like Reyna said."

"Possible," Vicki conceded.

"Reyna'll take care of it, she's solid," Felix said.

"Yeah, but she's not lucky," Kelly snapped back. "_Jason_ was our luck, and he's gone."

"He'll be back," Felix said confidently, "Remember how we all gave him up when he went off to fight the sea serpent? He came back from that, he'll come back from this. Jason's one of my mom's favorites. Nothing can beat him." Felix's mom was Fortuna, goddess of luck, both good and bad. "Ten denarii say he'll be back for the feast.

"We better hope he is," Kelly muttered to her desktop. She was one of the few who knew about the attack augured for that day. Not even Octavian was about to spread _that_ news - luckily panic wouldn't further his ends.

"I'll take that bet," Vicki said, not hearing the mutter. Felix and Kelly both looked at her in surprise and she shrugged. "I wanna lose."

Felix usually won bets. Usually, not always, Fortune was fickle even towards her own son. That was why only fauns would gamble with him. He didn't lose often enough to make it worth anybody else's while.

…..

The officers of the Fourth got a second glimpse of the legion's newest recruit while crossing the via Praetoria to the baths. He was following Hazel Levesque gatewards with an espresso in one hand and a muffin in the other, gulping and gobbling like he hadn't eaten in a week.

"Looks like he's had a rough time," Pompey Liberanus commented taking his first look at the son of Neptune.

"Don't we all," Kelly answered but she couldn't help feeling a niggle of sympathy. _Her_ trip to camp had been a complete nightmare. The stronger you are the more monsters you attract. Rome worshipped Jupiter, Mars and Quirinus, the deified Romulus Founder of Rome, as its 'big three' and had little time for Neptune but his children had to be pretty strong.

The four of them split up when they got to the baths the two boys, Felix and Pompey, heading for the far door while Kelly and Vicki went in the near one. 'Luxurious' didn't even begin to describe the baths of Camp Jupiter which had been decorated and redecorated by generations of Veterans. The lockers in the dressing room were an endless row of miniature marble temple fronts with copper-gilt doors and heavy marble benches underneath. The floor mosaics were in pink and blue and white and gold and the vaulted ceiling painted with flitting aurae in cloudy white robes. The girls, accustomed and indifferent to all the splendor, undressed stuffing their clothes into lockers with dirty boots put carelessly on top then walked through the open arch into the _frigidarium_.

The big room wasn't really cold, only the water in the big pool at one end deserved to be called frigid, but its walls of greeny-white marble and floor of blue glass like clear water over an elaborate mosaic of sea life made it look and feel cooler than it was. The room echoed with the splashes and shrieks of the girls in the pool while others toweled themselves briskly and combed out each other's hair.

"So, what'll it be?" Vicki asked, "The _laconium _and a plunge in the cold pool or the whole treatment?"

"The whole treatment," Kelly answered and led the way across the _frigidarium _towards the big bronze doors to the next room, past clusters of marble couches where yet more girls reclined draped in towels, downing tall glasses of Gatorade and nibbling chips and trail mix while they gossiped and played board games.

On the other side of the doors was the _tepidarium_ heated to comfortable warmth for bare skin. It was slightly smaller than the _frigidarium_ and much quieter with only the muffled grunts of girls getting massages from the Lymphae* and dreamy fragments of conversation from other girls waiting their turn to break the warm silence. This room was wainscoted in purplish-red porphyry and green jasper beneath frescoes of palm trees and tropical greenery divided by pilasters of yellow marble. The shower stalls were yellow marble too, the water tepidly warm. Kelly and Vicki rinsed off the dust and sweat before proceeding through the next pair of bronze doors to the _caldarium._

_Caldarium_ meant _hot_ and it was very hot in the red marble room decorated with moldings and medallions of milky chalcedony and a gold plated ceiling reflecting the light from small, high windows. Steam rose from the round spa at the curved end of the room and the big soaking pool at the square end, and drifts of bubbles overflowed the porphyry tubs along the sides. Spa and tubs were full but only a few girls were soaking in the big pool and most of them were gathered at one end leaving the other to Reyna the praetor and Cornelia Priscilla, presently the commanding – indeed _only_ centurion of the Second.

Kelly slid into the scalding water as a good Roman should – without hesitation and without allowing a sound to escape her. After the first agonizing seconds her pores expanded to let the heat in and the pain faded. "I saw the son of Neptune on his way to the praetorian gate," she remarked to Reyna, as soon as she could speak without gasping.

"I sent him to get an augury," the praetor answered, eyes closed and head leaned back against the rounded edge of the tub.

Vicki snorted. "You mean you left it to Octavian. I'll never understand why Lupa didn't eat that little _mentula*._"

"Octavian's a _mentula_," Kelly agreed. "But credit where it's due – he's not weak."

"And he's honest in his auguries if nothing else," Reyna added.

"You do know him, don't you?"

Reyna opened her eyes to give Kelly a look of fake surprise. "Of course I know Octavian."

"I mean this Percy Jackson," Kelly snapped back. "Where'd you meet him?"

Reyna sighed, "On Circe's island. It was he and his companion Annabeth who destroyed the spa."

Vicki perked up, "An enemy then?"

Reyna grimaced. "Well, to be fair, Circe _did_ turn him into a guinea pig."

Kelly smirked. "That would annoy anyone."

Vicki frowned. "How in the gods' names could a guinea pig destroy Circe's spa?"

"The girl, Annabeth, turned him back, I don't know how exactly." Reyna lifted cupped hands to splash water on her face. "I guess I should be grateful. If it weren't for him and his friend I'd still be a glorified bath attendant giving herbal facials."

"And we'd be out two praetors instead of one," Kelly added. "So who is he? Where did he and his girlfriend come from?"

"I don't know," Reyna answered quietly. "All I know is they had weapons of Celestial Bronze and had been trained to use them by – someone."

"_Graecus,"_ Vicki hissed on an indrawn breath.

Kelly winced. She hated that word. She's been '_graecus_' to the whole camp when she'd first come with her purple eyes and silver blond hair marking her as Perseid, descended from the Perseus who slew Medusa. Kelly even had his sword Gorgophone – gorgon slayer. The fact that the Perseids had been citizens of Rome for two thousand years hadn't counted for much, or even the fact that Kelly was great-granddaughter of Mars Ultor, that most Roman of gods. At least not until she'd gone on her quest and won back the Ancila, the shield buckler of Mars, and been chosen as his priest.

"Sorry," said Vicki.

"S'okay," Kelly muttered, embarrassed, then went on to Reyna; "You mean Octavian is right, there are still Greek demigods?"

"I don't know," said Reyna.

"Yes," said Cornelia, who'd been lounging back against the sloping side of the pool, apparently asleep, this whole time. "Yes but Octavian is wrong too. They're on the gods' side they fought for Olympus in Saturn's war and they certainly won't side with Gaea now.

The other three girls stared at her then Reyna's eyes narrowed. "And you know this how, centurion?"

"From Guy," Cornelia answered matter-of-factly. "He and Marcia and Sophie met three of them on their quest to kill Echidna and her brood. According to Guy they'd have failed without the Greeks' help. He said they have their own camp where they train under Chiron the Centaur and they honor the gods by their Greek names."

"Why didn't he tell _me_?" Reyna demanded indignantly.

"Because of the Civil War," Cornelia answered. "And all the other wars we fought with each other. You know the stories. Guy said the six of them got along fine but they agreed not to go against the gods' clear will by telling either camp about the other."

"But Guy told you, and now you're telling us," Kelly pointed out.

Cornelia nodded. "Guy told me before he left to look for Jason. _Something's_ starting up again, gods know what, and the Greeks are sure to be as involved in it as we are. My orders were to pass the information on to Reyna if and when it seemed relevant. I'd say Percy Jackson makes it relevant."

"I agree," Reyna said grimly.

There was a brief and anything but sleepy silence as the four girls contemplated the new facts.

"Well that sure killed the mood," Vicki said at last.

"Yeah, I'm all tense again," Kelly agreed. "Thanks a lot, Cornelia."

She shrugged. "Sorry, who's for the _laconium?*_"

NOTES:

_Grassor, Planto Nostrum Dies _(trans.) Go Ahead, Make My Day

_Lymphae_: Minor Roman deities of wells, fountains, purification and bodily health, all of which makes them natural attendants for the baths.

_Mentula_:A bad word in Latin that I have no intention of translating.

_Laconium_: Roman for sauna.


	2. Cornelia I

Cornelia Priscilla stood in front of the drawn up ranks of the Second all alone except for the standard and banner bearers on either side of her and a half pace behind.

Nobody had been surprised when Guy picked Marcia and Sophie as his quest companions, the three of them were an old and very successful team. It was unfortunate that they were also two thirds of the Second's command cadre but Cornelia was used to being left in charge. Nobody had expected the three of them to vanish as completely as Jason had. Sending an even larger party to look for Jason _and_ Guy, Marcia and Sophie had probably been a mistake, but what else could they do? Grudgingly Cornelia had to admit that Reyna had been right not to let her lead the Second's second search party since it had promptly vanished as well. Two parties sent out by the Fifth to find their former _Pilus Prior_* were also among the missing but most of the camp considered them good riddance – which Jason wouldn't have liked at all. Nor would he have liked the way the Fifth was being punished for his disappearance. Not that anybody believed for a moment that they'd actually done away with him, it was their 'curse' their ill-luck the legion blamed.

Cornelia was not superstitious but she was a Roman. She knew that Fortuna played favorites. The Fifth had lost the legion's eagle, her luck and her honor, and that was not something the rest of them could just forgive and forget. But for a while it had seemed like Jason had broken the curse. He'd become the legion's luck leading them to glory against Saturn, a greater victory even than the one over the Barbarians more than sixty years before. Then he'd disappeared taking his luck with him and whatever honor and acceptance the Fifth had gained under his leadership.

Hazel Levesque appeared under the gate and jogged up the via Praetoria past the legion's formation, face flushed and trying hard not to meet anybody's eye. She had a boy with her but it wasn't Percy Jackson it was her brother Nico di Angelo, Ambassador of the Underworld. Cornelia turned her head to watch as Hazel took her place, second from the end of the final file of the Fifth. Nico crossed behind Reyna on Skippy to join Percy Jackson standing between his guards. She was always pleased to see the son of Pluto, he was intriguingly mysterious and it was so cute the way he blushed when she flirted with him – apparently he wasn't at all used to girls noticing him. Cornelia frankly could not understand why the rest of the legion was so leery of Pluto's children. Romans don't fear death and they love wealth yet the others persisted in regarding the god of both as ill-omened. It made no sense.

Percy Jackson had obviously taken advantage of the baths and was wearing a clean purple t-shirt and pair of jeans. He looked nervous, but everybody did when they were presented to the legion. Two hundred-odd heavily armed kids tend to be a little intimidating – go figure.

"Get outta my face, Helvius!" Tib snarled behind her.

Cornelia turned to see a burly Lar in full armor weighed down by medals and crowned with a garland of oak leaves superimposed over her cousin and decuranus*. The Lares were immaterially jostling the living legionaries as usual. Having a Lar stand partially inside you didn't hurt but it was seriously creepy.

"To one side, Marcus Helvius," she ordered. "You know your place. And that goes for the rest of you too!" The Lares reluctantly shuffled into their own files between the rows of the living. "Dress that line!" Cornelia snapped. "No overlapping!" Satisfied she turned eyes front to note with some pleasure that Octavian was still struggling to get _his_ Lares to behave.

He was in fact the _last _officer to get his cohort in order and was red-faced with suppressed fury as he called 'Colors'. The standard and banner bearers of the Second stepped smartly forward to plant their poles on the cobbles of the via Praetoria a half pace in front of Cornelia. The color bearers of the Third, The Fourth and the Fifth followed suit. Finally the _aquillifer_* advanced the empty pole that should have carried the eagle. Cornelia winced right along with the rest of the legion. Why did Reyna insist on following tradition? All it did was remind them of what they'd lost.

Their one remaining praetor urged her Pegasus a few paces down the via Praetoria, reined in and announced; "Romans! You've probably heard about the incursion today -" Durn right. "Two gorgons were swept into the river by this newcomer, Percy Jackson." And did Cornelia ever regret missing that. "Juno herself guided him here, and proclaimed him a son of Neptune." Talk about your good news and bad news!

Percy Jackson raised his hand in a kind of wave, "Hi," not exactly impressive.

"He seeks to join the legion," Reyna went on. "What do the auguries say?"

Octavian stepped out to her drawing himself up to his full height. "I have read the entrails!" he boomed, "The auguries are favorable. He is qualified to serve!"

The color bearers stamped their poles and two hundred mouths opened to roar '_Ave!_' in almost perfect unison. Frank Zhang of the Fifth wasn't quite with the program, his high pitched '_ave,'_ was just a fraction late, a tiny kitten's mew echoing a lion's roar. Legionaries snickered.

"Silence in the ranks!" Tib snapped.

Reyna beckoned the commanding officers forward Cornelia joined Kelly, Hank of the Third and Dakota of the Fifth under Skippy's nose. The guards nudged Percy Jackson closer and Octavian as _Primus Pilus*_ of the legion asked the inevitable question; "Recruit, do you have credentials? Letters of reference?"

Percy's blank look made his answer obvious before he said it; "Letters? Um, no."

The word of Juno Moneta struck Cornelia as a pretty good recommendation. Judging by her expression Kelly didn't agree, she looked like she smelled spoiled fish. Hank just looked pleasantly blank as usual and Octavian smug – also as usual.

"No letters," he said with faux regret. "Will any legionaries stand for him?"

Cornelia almost spoke. The Second needed to make up its numbers. But she hesitated, uncertain whether her cohort would back her up, and somebody else beat her to the punch.

"I will!" Frank Zhang stepped out of formation. "He saved my life!" the first four cohorts erupted in catcalls. Reyna cut them off with a gesture and glared at the Fifth's most junior legionary.

"Frank Zhang, for the second time today I remind you that you are on _probatio_. Your godly parent hasn't even claimed you yet. You're not eligible to stand for another camper until you've earned your first stripe.

Cornelia's heart went out to the kid he looked like he wished the ground would swallow him. Hazel Levesque stepped up next to him. "What Frank means is that Percy saved _both_ our lives. I am a full member of the legion. I will stand for Percy Jackson."

There were some mutters from the ranks, quickly hushed by centurions and decurani. Reyna threw an inquiring glance round her senior officers. Octavian nodded and so did Cornelia, much as she hated to agree with that _pippina*_ on anything. Hank and Kelly shrugged like they didn't care because they didn't. Dakota looked pained, but of course he wouldn't go against one of his own.

"Very well," Reyna said with a shrug in her voice. "Hazel Levesque, you may stand for the recruit. Does your cohort accept him?"

Frank Zhang pounded his shield against the ground with enthusiasm his comrades duly followed his lead with resignation rather than excitement.

Dakota exchanged an unhappy look with Gwen - the Fifth's other surviving centurion - before turning to Reyna. "My cohort has spoken. We accept the recruit."

"Congratulations, Percy Jackson." Reyna said, sounding anything but congratulatory, "You stand on _probatio_. You will be given a tablet with your name and cohort. In one year's time, or as soon as you complete an act of valor, you will become a full member of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata. Serve Rome, obey the rules of the legion and defend the camp with honor. _Senatus Populusque Romanus!"_ The legion raised the obligatory cheer.

Reyna wheeled Skippy around to face down the via Praetoria. "Centurions, you and your troops have one hour for dinner. Then we will meet on the Field of Mars. The First and Second Cohorts will defend. The Third, Fourth and Fifth will attack. Good Fortune!"

That got a much bigger cheer as the formations broke and made a mad dash for the mess hall.

…

Cornelia finished lacing up her boots, if you don't take your shoes off before lying down to eat the Penates* get cross, and headed for the praetor's table at the head of the mess hall flanked by Tib and Lacey, her two remaining decurani - not counting the medics and engineers because they didn't.

Her first cousin Tiberius Silvius Tiberanus Jr. was just thirteen, a year younger than Cornelia, with blond curls, freckles and blue-grey eyes. She'd known him since they were cubs together, six years now.

Lacey Weber was much older than either of them – eighteen – but nowhere near as experienced as she'd be the first to admit. She was a Vestal. She'd never gone on a quest, in fact the attack on Mount Tam was the first time she'd been outside the valley since she'd been claimed as one of Vesta's own though of course the maiden goddess of the hearth wasn't her mother. Minerva was, as the long storm grey eyes made obvious. Otherwise Lacey was dark, olive skinned with long chocolate brown hair. "I hate working with the First," she muttered.

Tib snorted; "Who doesn't with that insufferable _pippina _Octavian in charge. And with Guy missing we're going to have to let him command!"

"Don't remind me," Cornelia groaned.

Of course the first thing out of Reyna's mouth after the officers of the Second had settled themselves on the purple cushions of the praetor's couch was; "Octavian will command the defense."

"Yes, Reyna Bellonica," Cornelia replied careful not to look in Octavian's direction because if she did she'd be sorely tempted to knock that smug look off his face.

"Kelly, you're in command of the attack," the praetor said to the XIIths remaining Tribune reclining between Vicki and Pompey on the opposite end of the couch.

"Got it."

"I want all of you to remember these are _war games_," Reyna continued. "Anybody who forgets themselves and maims a comrade will answer to me."

"Don't worry," Kelly said. "Octavian always keeps well clear of the Fourth."

He reared up, "Are you calling me a coward?"

Kelly opened her mouth, probably to say yes, but Reyna got in first. "Of course not, Octavian, don't be so touchy." Fortunately Nico di Angelo arrived at that moment, dragging Don the faun and Vitellius, one of the Fifth's Lares, by the ears. "_Ave_ Nico Plutonius," Reyna said politely ignoring his company.

"_Ave Praetor_," he answered letting go of his two captives to bow.

"_Ave _Nico," Cornelia echoed with a big friendly smile and was rewarded by a deep blush. That boy definitely spent too much time in the Underworld!

Cornelia could tell that Octavian was getting ready to say something about Don but Dakota distracted him by bouncing on the edge of the couch next to him. "Hi everybody," he said with a flourish of goblet that had red Kool-Aid slopping over his hand and dripping onto the cushions.

Reyna restrained a sigh. "Centurion Dakota. As I was saying, _no_ maiming, the legion is already understrength as you all know."

They did. Octavian, Cornelia, Kelly and Hank also knew exactly why that was such a problem though none of them said so. The coming attack was privileged information limited to highest command ranks.

"Who gets Hannibal?" Hank wanted to know.

"You can have him," Kelly answered and he looked pleased. Privately Cornelia thought that Hannibal, sweet as he was, was more trouble than he was worth in battle and she knew Kelly agreed.

Dakota, who had the attention span of a newt, started playing xylophone with the shields on the wall.

"Stop that noise you peasant!" Octavian snarled.

"Watch your mouth, Octavian," Nico said coldly, "Dakota is a demigod."

"A son of Bacchus!"

"You are such a snob, Octavian," Kelly said picking up a goblet and taking a sip of soda. "And what do you have to be snobbish about anyway? Apollo's no big deal in Rome and your family hasn't managed to produce a praetor yet. All you got is money."

Octavian's face went as purple as the cushions. "My grandmother was a Julia!"

Tertius Lucullus of the First rolled his eyes. "Oh give it a break, Ockie. _Everybody's_ grandmother is a Julia!"

Cornelia laughed. Tertius was right. There were always lots of Julias and everybody knew they weren't picky about who they married. She herself was cousin to most of New Rome – including Octavian and Tertius - through her Julian great grandmother.

"_Real_ Roman patricians don't look down on anybody," Tib observed. He and Cornelia were very much Romans of Romans. Their family, the Cornelii, was one of the five patrician gentes* surviving from Old Rome.

"It's beneath our _dignitas_," She agreed.

Octavian looked like he wanted to kill them both.

NOTES:

_Pilus Prior_ (trans.) First Spear, title of the commanding Centurion of a Cohort.

_Aquillifer_ (trans.) Eagle bearer.

_Decuranus:_ A non-com of the legion roughly equivalent to a sergeant. Each centuria is supposed to have a centurion and a decuranus at its head. The Second is currently seriously short of both thanks to the disappearance of four sixths of its officers and a third of its non-coms.

_Primus Pilus: _Senior Centurion of the Legion.

_Pippina:_ Another Latin insult I won't translate.

_Penates: _Another type of household god, invisible spirits who do the cooking and cleaning around camp.

_Gentes_: Plural of 'gens' the Roman word for the extended family or clan.


	3. Cornelia II

Cornelia watched tight lipped as the Fifth's turtle formation staggered underneath a shower of stones and flaming scorpion bolts from the defenders on the wall while their so-called allies stood back and laughed. A high pressure stream from the water cannon over the gate carved a deep trench in the ground in front of them. Cornelia looked up at Reyna circling overhead on Skippy but the praetor didn't seem inclined to interfere. Just about every wargame since Jason's disappearance had turned into a smack down of the Fifth and nobody but Cornelia seemed to have a problem with it. She was still looking upward and thinking about what Jason would say if he could see this when the water cannon exploded. The blast was devastating knocking some kids over the walls and others, including Cornelia, backwards into the fort. A rescue eagle caught her under the arms, talons digging into her breast and back plates, and set her gently on the ground of the inner ward next to Tib.

"Wow!" he said. "How'd they do that?"

"Kelly?" Cornelia suggested readjusting her cuirass.

He shook his head. "We'd have heard a thunder-shock and it wouldn't have just hit the cannon."

Screaming and yelling was coming from the eastern wall, spreading rapidly southward towards the gate, along with the metallic crash of falling legionaries. "Form up," Kelly ordered.

"Second to the Standard! Rally the Second!" Tib bellowed and legionaries came running from all directions, the few left on the walls swarming down ropes to join their comrades in a triple line just as the gate shattered. Hannibal burst through trumpeting joyfully followed by a rush of the Fifth.

The battle went hand to hand but it proved impossible to maintain a defensive formation thanks to the new guy who acted like a one man cohort charging the First's shield wall and summersaulting over it to smash Octavian on the helmet with the pommel of his leaf shaped Greek sword. He whirled it, slashing sideways with the long edge rather than making the short stabbing motions of gladii style fighting. Luckily for the Second they were not entirely unfamiliar with such unorthodox swordwork.

"Break!" Cornelia shouted and the Second's formation disintegrated just like the First's but unlike the First in a controlled and drilled maneuver, dividing and scattering in pairs guarding each other's backs. Cornelia tossed her imperial golden gladius upward and it transformed into a long lance. She caught it and headed for Percy Jackson. Then the Third and Fourth thundered through the broken gate scattering the pairs of the Second far and wide.

Thoroughly irate Cornelia made short work of anybody who tackled her until she face to face with Kelly. "Have you noticed the new guy?" she asked catching Gorgophone's edge on the haft of her lance.

"No, what about him?" Kelly asked trying a back-hand blow which Cornelia also blocked.

He fights Greek style, like you and Guy," She answered spinning her lance around the fulcrum of her double handed grip to punch at Kelly with the butt.

She dodged, ducking to get in under Cornelia's guard. "So he is a _graecus._"

"I though you didn't like that word," Cornelia answered blocking again.

"Only when it's aimed at me."

"Hypocrite!"

Abruptly the two girls realized everybody else had stopped fighting and fell apart. Hannibal paraded proudly past surrounded by files of the Fifth with Hazel, Frank and Percy Jackson on his back clutching the standards and banners of the First and Second.

Kelly's jaw dropped. "I don't believe it!"

"Believe it," said Cornelia, resigned and not at all surprised.

Reyna swooped low on Skippy. "The game is won. Assemble for honors!"

Kelly glared upward. "What's so funny?"

"The Fifth winning for a change?" Cornelia suggested with a shrug; "Serves us right for getting complacent." She thought a minute, "Serves Octavian even righter."

Kelly brightened. "Our Primus Pilus did badly?"

"Very," Cornelia assured her.

….

Cornelia made a final sweep of the fort, to make sure no wounded had been left behind trailed by Tib and Tib's younger brother Gus who'd been standard bearer for the Game and was still apologizing: "We should have been more alert -"

"Yeah, you should have," Tib agreed, "But it wouldn't have changed anything."

"Enough, Gus," Cornelia added. "Nobody expected you guys to pull a Horatius at the Bridge. It's all over once the keep's penetrated."

"Right, and it's not like you didn't try," said Tib which was very true. Gus had two sprained wrists, a black eye and maybe some cracked ribs to show for it.

The haft of a pilum sticking into the ground caught Cornelia's eye - then she saw it wasn't ground it was stuck in. "Oh my gods!"

It was Gwen of the Fifth, lying on her face with a spear in her back. "Oh, gods," Cornelia said again. "Stretcher! We need a stretcher here!"

Nobody responded it seemed they were the only ones left inside the fort. Tib and Gus ran for the keep where they found a spare stretcher and the three of them very carefully lifted Gwen onto it. She was still breathing which meant she had a chance. The medics almost never lost anybody.

Cornelia and Tib carried her out of the fort, Gus trotting behind. The legion hadn't formed up for honors yet. The Fifth was still slapping backs and celebrating – and who could blame them? Cornelia shouted for help and medics from all five cohorts ran towards them with the rest of the legion close behind.

Everybody stood back, watching anxiously as half a dozen medics worked frantically, some holding the pilum steady so it wouldn't shift and cause more damage, others supporting Gwen on her side as the Second's Tye Giancola tried to ease wadded gauze covered with unicorn horn powder under her cuirass and the Fourth's Galen Livingston dripped nectar into her open mouth. Gwen's face was gray and Cornelia couldn't see if she was still breathing.

After a long and horrible moment Tye rocked back on his haunches letting the gauze drop from his fingers, looked up at Reyna on Skippy and shook his head.

The horrified silence seemed to go on and on, broken only by the sound of water trickling down walls of the fort. Finally Reyna spoke, and there was nothing comforting or reassuring about her words.

"There will be an investigation," she said in a cold, hard voice. "Whoever did this, you cost the legion a good officer. Honorable death is one thing, but _this_…"

… was cold blooded murder. Gwen had been stabbed from behind, quite probably _after_ the game had ended. The pilum had the markings of the 1st on its haft – which didn't necessarily mean anything as dozens of weapons belonging to all five cohorts had been lying around but still Cornelia found she wasn't the only one looking straight at Octavian. But why would he? Gwen was no threat to his plans to become Praetor. Kelly or Cornelia herself was a more probable rival candidate. Of course he _was_ a famously bad loser…

Then Gwen, there on the ground at their feet, gave a long sobbing gasp. Instinctively everybody recoiled, leaving her all alone in an open circle as the color flooded back into her face and she opened her eyes to blink at them bewildered, and maybe a little embarrassed.

"Wh-what is it? What's everybody staring at?"

At a dead girl come back to life – with a seven foot spear still stuck through her nobody answered.

She tried to sit up but couldn't quite manage it. "There was a river and a man asking…. for a coin?" she continued in the same confused voice. "I turned around and the exit door was open. So I just…left. I don't understand, what's happened?" She still hadn't noticed the pilum.

Frank Zhang pushed his way past Cornelia to kneel by his centurion's side. "Gwen, don't try to get up. Just close your eyes for a second okay?"

"Why?" she wanted to know. "What –"

"Just trust me." Luckily she did.

Frank took hold of the pilum's bloody haft just below the steel point. "Percy, Hazel, help me."

The other two stepped forward – and Tye realized what Frank meant to do.

"Don't ! You might –"

"What?" Hazel Levesque asked scornfully, "Make it worse?"

The other two held Gwen steady and Frank drew the pilum out headfirst. She didn't so much as wince. Blood gushed out after it and Cornelia had to hold Tye back. His help wasn't needed as the bleeding stopped almost at once.

Hazel bent for a closer look, swallowed. "It's closing on its own. I don't know how, but –"

"I feel fine," Gwen protested as Percy and Frank helped her to her feet. "What's everybody worried about?"

"Gwen," Hazel said in a gentle voice. "There's no easy way to say this. You were dead. Somehow you came back."

"I…what?" Gwen started to protest. Then her fingers found the ragged hole in her armor. "How- how?"

"Good question." Reyna looked over heads at Nico standing behind the crowd. "Is this some power of Pluto?"

He shook his head. "Pluto never lets people return from the dead."

Then a voice of thunder rolled over the Field of Mars. "_Death loses its hold. This is only the beginning._"


	4. Kelly II

Kelly stared at the air where her ten foot tall god and ancestor had stood only seconds before. The biggest loser in camp was a son of Mars and one favored by his godly parent with both a gift and a quest? _Un_-believable! She huffed out a breath turned on her heel and headed for her shell-shocked new relative.

"You owe Mars a pig," she said flatly.

He stared at her blankly. "What?"

Kelly suppressed an urge to roll her eyes. "You've been acknowledged by the god, you owe him a thanksgiving sacrifice."

Blankness gave way to a hunted expression. "I can't, there's no _time_."

"Make time," she snapped. "We'll do it tonight. You can't leave until the senate Okays the quest tomorrow anyway."

Frank looked at the spear in his hand and swallowed; "Right, fine."

"Go to Bestia's Butcher Shop," Kelly continued, "he'll give you a discount." She looked at the sun descending over the Berkley hills. "Be at the temple in an hour."

…..

By the time Kelly had finished sweeping out the temple yard most of the twenty or so children and legacies of Mars currently serving in the legion had assembled to 'welcome' their new brother.

"Frank Zhang," Sergio Armstrong was saying to one of the multitudinous Valeriuses*, "Can you believe it?"

"No," Kelly answered dumping her dustpan in the trash can behind them. "But Father Mars has acknowledged him. He's one of us and we're just going to have to deal with it."

"He sure showed his stuff tonight though," Marius Valerius Valens pointed out. "First over the walls and from what I hear it was his strategy that won them the game."

"I gotta admit he won't be the first of us to make a bad start," Kelly said, getting snorts of laughter from several campers. She looked at the sunset glow over the roof of the _cella_*. "Sergio, Marius, light the barbecue pit will you. And somebody get the torches."

The temple of Mars Ultor was far from the fanciest on the Capitoline Hill Father Mars was not into fancy. High walls of dull red stone enclosed a square yard large enough to hold up to a hundred people comfortably with room enough to spare for the priest to do her stuff at the carved altar standing at the foot of a high _podium_* with the stern face of the god's image carved in black basalt and dressed in heavy, functional steel armor looking down at them from behind a row of stubby columns.

Kelly had just finished struggling into her toga when Frank Zhang came through the open doors and froze on the inner porch, staring down at the crowd of Martians, with a big paper wrapped package balanced on his shoulder.

"Don't just stand there, Legionary," Kelly snapped. "Give the pig to Sergio, straighten your toga, and come over here by me." He obeyed stumbling over his dragging drapery. Kelly bit back a nasty remark – after all everybody had trouble keeping their togas on. She let out a long breath and said evenly; "Kiss your hand to Father Mars."* Frank obeyed awkwardly and she drew the back of her toga up over her head.

"_Mars Pater_, avenger of wrongs, defender of Rome, progenitor and patron; Frank Zhang, _Marti Filius,_ in gratitude and filial piety offers the required sacrifice of one mature male pig in accordance with our contractual obligations going back to Romulus and the Foundation of Rome."

She took a cake of _mola salsa_* from little Marcella Poulson, acting as acolyte, and crumbled it into the fire on the altar. Marcella shoved the plate insistently at Frank and he took the hint. Kelly stepped out of his way so he could sprinkle the crumbs of a second cake into the flames. Metellus Niger handed Kelly a shallow dish of etched bronze then poured a little wine into it. She turned back to the altar to sprinkle drops of wine into the fire making it leap and dance.

"Right," she said, handing the _patera*_ back to Metellus. "That's done. Let's eat."

One of the good things about being a priest is you get to go to a lot of barbecues, that being how every sacrifice ends. Mats were unrolled to recline on and platters of devilled eggs, olives, bread and relishes circulated while the pig sizzled over the barbecue pit and got nice and crispy. Then the package of entrails was emptied into the altar fire for Mars and the worshippers dug in, getting very greasy in the process.

Only the host didn't seem to be enjoying himself. Frank Zhang had been holding a skewer of toasted pork for over a minute, not eating, not talking. Staring off into the distance at something he was clearly very unhappy about.

"Not thrilled over being claimed are you?" Sergio said suddenly.

Frank blinked back to the here and now and a defiant expression spread itself over his face. "Not by Mars I'm not!" To his astonishment his new relatives weren't offended. In fact most of them were nodding agreement!

Metellus Niger grinned crookedly. "Think you're the only one? Nobody's ever happy to be claimed by Mars, not even Kelly here."

"Darn right," Mars' priest agreed. "Who wants to be a close relative of war?"

Sergio looked over his shoulder at the image watching over them from the _cella_ of his temple. "Don't worry about it. Dad understands. He expects it."

Frank looked confused.

"You won't always feel like this," Kelly promised. "Not if you really belong to Mars. Not if you're worthy of him. The day will come – soon – that you get it."

"Get what?" Frank asked, even more confused.

"That there are worse things than war," Marius Valens said quietly, "lots worse. Mars' job – and ours – is to see they don't happen."

"You heard what Pater said to Percy Jackson didn't you?" Kelly asked. "He's a defender, protector of the legion, of Rome and of everything she stands for. You'll learn to be proud of that – if you live that is."

…..

The party ended as soon as the last bit of barbecued pork was swallowed only an hour or two after sunset – the legion keeps early hours. The bones and other remnants were collected in garbage bags. The altar fire extinguished with wine and the wet ashes emptied into another bag. Then the congregation headed back to camp.

Kelly deliberately dropped back to walk with Frank. It was a minute or two before he noticed she was there. "You've been given a chance to restore the Fifth's standing. Don't mess it up."

He gave her a wary look. "You hate the Fifth."

Her face hardened. "Darn right I do. The Fifth cost us our luck!"

"It's not fair," Frank all but whined.

That got him a glare. "Fair! Was it fair that my grandfather got dragged through Hades by a friend he trusted? Was it fair that eighty good legionaries died for _nothing_? Was it fair we lost our eagle and our honor because of _one _gods be-dammed fool?"

Frank edged nervously away. Kelly hyperventilated a minute before getting herself back in hand. "'Fair' is for children and barbarians, Legionary. We are Romans," with that final shot she stalked away leaving him standing in the road staring after her with his mouth slightly ajar.

…..

Romans keep early hours. Legionaries were filtering into the mess hall for breakfast while a pale sun, low over the Berkley hills, was still trying to burn off the mist rising from the lake and Little Tiber.

The supper couches had vanished, replaced by backless stools – try reclining in a toga or armor – and the round marble topped tables were loaded with a dozen different kinds of coffee, milk, juice and a many splendored variety of muffins, bagels and pastries, a typical Roman breakfast supplied by Bombilo and the other camp entrepreneurs.

Kelly stood in the doorway adjusting her toga – it is always necessary to adjust one's toga after walking even a few yards in it. Looking around the mess she spotted Reyna talking to Gwen and went to join them. "So – how's Centurion shish-ka-bob this morning?"

Gwen glared. "You know you Martians have a really sick sense of humor."

"We get it from our pater. Seriously, how are you?"

Gwen shrugged. "Terrific, especially for somebody who should be dead." She turned back to Reyna. "Like I was saying I hate to leave the Fifth in the lurch like this -"

The praetor interrupted. "You're no use to the legion dead, Gwen. Last night was an omen if ever I saw one. You can fight for Rome with the veterans as well as you can with the Fifth."

"Probably better," said Kelly. "I'm guessing you're leaving us?"

Gwen nodded, looking more than a little guilty. "I've got my ten and Ceres has been sending me hints all summer." She shot a worried glance over her shoulder at the Fifth's tables. "I hate to leave Dakota on his own but -"

"You're no good to him dead either," this time it was Kelly who interrupted her. "And it's never wise to go against your godly parent's wishes."

"That's what he said," Gwen sighed and gave her fellow centurion another unhappy look. Dakota was at the Kool-Aid already his toga was spotted with it. Next to him the new guy, Percy Jackson, was working on a huge breakfast of pancakes etc. Like all probies it would take a little time for him to adjust to Roman ways. Learning to eat lying down was a real killer, but once you mastered it you wondered where this brilliant idea had been all your life. Same deal with Roman baths.

Reyna patted Gwen on the back. "You're doing the right thing, don't worry about the Fifth."

Kelly nodded hearty agreement. "If Frank and company get the eagle back nobody will ever need to worry about the Fifth again."

"_If_," Gwen said ruefully.

"Have faith," Kelly told her. The other girls stared at her. "I know. I'm no fan of the Fifth. But I believe in Mars. Pater wouldn't have given Frank the quest if there wasn't at least an even chance he could pull it off."

…

Notes:

_Valerius_: Members of the ancient Patrician Valerian Gens are all legacies of Mars through their descent from Volesus son of Mars, founder of their family_. _

_Cella:_ the one room sanctuary containing the god's statue. Open to the pillared porch in front.

_Podium: _This is the high platform on which a Roman temple is built_. _

This is _adoratio_ a formal gesture of reverence somewhat similar to a Catholic genuflecting to an altar.

_Mola salsa: _Ground wheat and salt meal formed into cakes for ritual use. They taste awful. Fortunately worshippers are not required to eat them.

_Patera_: Latin for shallow dish/bowl.


	5. Cornelia III

The interior of the Senate House of New Rome looked a like a high school lecture hall - if high school lecture halls had mosaic floors, marble statues and columns, and overhead a fabulous astronomical ceiling whose stars and constellations shifted imperceptibly to match the real night sky. Three curved rows of backless marble seats – try sitting in a chair with a back in a toga, just try – faced a _podium _set with two ivory curule* chairs for the praetors overlooked by triple life sized statues of Jupiter Tonans flanked by Mars Ultor and Quirinus, the Romans' 'big three'.

Because it was a session concerning military matters Reyna presided. Because it had been called at short notice only the ten legion senators, the Public Lares, and the half-dozen city magistrates and the Legates of veterans were in attendance. Reyna pretty much railroaded the first part meeting, like she said there wasn't much to debate; the commands of Mars Ultor _had _to be obeyed. He had picked Frank Zhang to lead the quest and Frank had picked Hazel and Percy Jackson as his companions. Cato, of course, had raised objections and Octavian had been as obstructive has he dared but Mars Ultor – and Reyna – got their way.

Cornelia was more than a little surprised when Reyna announced there would be further business which was foolish of her. She should have realized that the praetor would take advantage of what was practically a closed meeting to finally announce the impending attack to the senate. Admitting the threat to the full senate would have led to a lot of ranting and raving and character assassination on the floor –if not actual bloodshed - which would normally have been just fine as political rough and tumble was part of the fun of being a Roman - but they didn't have time for it just now.

Daniel Mecurius Proctor, this year's senior Praetor Urbanus, stood to be recognized. "What intelligence do we have on the size and composition of the enemy, Reyna Bellonica?"

Reyna closed her eyes briefly. "Lupa estimates a hundred or more Gegenes, a full legion of Cyclopes and at least as many centaurs as well as smaller detachments of Laistrygonians and Hyperboreans, and Scythian Draconae."

There was a stunned silence finally broken by C. Julius Severus, Legate of Veterans. "Romans have always been outnumbered by the barbarians but with the help of the gods we prevail," he said in his stern, ringing voice.

Everybody let out a sigh and started breathing again. "When?" Mercurius Proctor asked.

"Lupa has been doing everything in her power to slow them down, she's taken heavy losses and there is little more she can do. No later than the Feast of Fortuna, she says."

Severus looked at his fellow legate, Cornelia's grandmother and namesake Cornelia Prisca. "That may be to our advantage," he said, "veterans from outside come to the feast and will swell our numbers by a little."

"It also gives us excuse to step up drilling as preparation for the games," the Elder Cornelia agreed.

"Truly games to remember," the Praetor Urbanus said grimly.

….

"Well that was totally depressing," Cornelia commented to Reyna, walking alongside her as the legion senators headed back to camp.

"Good thing we got a level headed bench of magistrates this year." Kelly added grimly from the praetor's other side.

Cornelia looked smug, "Thank you!" She was closely related to exactly half of this year's magistrates. The junior Praetor Urbanus, the senior aedile, and one of the Tribunes of Citizens just happened to her three elder uncles. The fourth and youngest was prefect of the Praetorian Guard, New Rome's police force.

"We're lucky you're so well connected, Cornelia," Reyna said seriously. "You can be my liaison with the praetor urbanes and the legates without raising any suspicions."

Cornelia nodded. She was always in and out of her grandmother's house, and so of course were her uncles and Julius Severus.

"Remember what Pater Mars said; if Frank Zhang and his companions succeed in their quest our honor will be restored and Rome saved," said Kelly, trying to be encouraging.

"Believe me I haven't forgotten one word Mars Ultor said," Reyna replied. "But it's not Frank Zhang I'm depending on, it's Percy Jackson."

Kelly raised her eyebrows, "The _graecus_?"

Reyna gave a single sharp nod. "Greek or no he's a veteran quester, I know I met him on one. And we've all seen the kind of power he commands." Neither Kelly nor Cornelia could argue with that. "Mater Juno brought him here for a reason," the Praetor continued. "I think he's here to replace Jason."

"You've given up on him," Kelly said flatly.

"I don't _want_ to," Reyna said tightly, "I want to believe he'll come back to us –"

"Felix has bet good _denarii_ that he will," Kelly interrupted.

"I hope to the gods he's right," said Reyna. "But in meantime we're short a praetor and I'd much rather have Percy Jackson in the seat next to me than Octavian!"

"I don't think anybody could argue with that," said Cornelia. "If he brings home the eagle we can pretty much count on him being shield raised."

"That's what I think," said Reyna.

….

Lunch was not a festive occasion. Knowledge of the oncoming army was still limited to senatorial circles but everybody had heard Mars Ultor say Rome's survival hung on this quest and nobody had much faith in the Fatal Fifths' three most junior legionaries' ability to pull it off.

After lunch the legion assembled on the _via principalis_ to formally bid farewell to the questers. Reyna made a brief speech invoking the blessing of the gods, especially Fortuna – the same speech that had so notably failed to bring luck to the search parties – and Octavian took the auspices.

Since he had an audience he made an elaborate little ceremony of it, sprinkling the 'victim', a beanie baby, with _mola salsa _before ripping it open with his knife. He brooded over the fluffy innards for a whole minute – Cornelia timed him – before raising his head. "The omens are grave!" he cried. Like – duh! "Hard and dangerous times lie before us. The next days will bring upon us the worst threat Rome has faced in a thousand years, more dangerous than either barbarians or Saturn. Camp and City will come nigh to destruction but be saved by a hero no one expects!"

The one thing in which Octavian was completely honest was his auguries, Cornelia reflected. At least he'd given this one a hopeful final twist. She looked at Frank Zhang, Hazel Levesque and Percy Jackson, as unexpected a bunch of heroes as the legion had ever sent out on an urgent quest, and silently and fervently wished them better luck then the search parties.

Reyna dismissed the legion. The questers went off to pack, the other kids to their assigned duties. Cornelia approached the praetor in obedience to her commanding beckon.

Reyna slid from Scipio's back and moved in close. "I didn't tell the senate everything," she said quietly.

"Oh Mars!" Cornelia interrupted, "there's more?"

"The army of monsters is being led a giant – not a Laistrygonian or a Hyperborean, one of the ancient Gigantes spawned by Gaea to destroy the gods." Reyna answered grimly.

The other girl was stunned into temporary silence. "Oh gods," Cornelia muttered at last, "this is so unfair. We're still reeling from Saturn's War."

"_Aut vincere aut mori,"_ Reyna said tightly. "Warn the legates, they've got to know what we'll be facing. Tell no one else."

"No kidding!"

…

Cornelia followed the wide curve of the Little Tiber as it looped towards the lake instead of heading back into New Rome. It was summer and her grandmother would be at the villa not the townhouse. The villa of Cornelia Prisca and her husband Silvanus Silvius Tiberinus stood on a terrace above the ponds of the fish farm commanding a fine view of the cattle and sheep pasturing on the other side of the river. An oak wood stretched from behind the villa to the hills hemming the valley. Cornelia met her step-grandfather - her real grandfather was Quirinus the deified Romulus Founder of Rome – in the shade of the old oaks meditatively scratching the broad back of a contented sow with a gnarly stick.

Silvanus Tiberinus, a very big man in all dimensions with a cap of short cropped graying hair, nodded an unsurprised greeting. "Your grandmother is expecting you, sweetie," he said in his booming voice. "She guessed Reyna Bellonica had a bit more bad news tucked in her _sinus_.*"

"Grandma's dead right," Cornelia answered, "orders are it's for her ears and Julius Severus' only."

Her grandpa snorted gently. "Honeypie, I don't want to know. Just hand me my spear and my shield and point me towards the enemy when he gets here." Cornelia smiled. There spoke the true Roman spirit! "You'll find Grandma and Julius Severus in the _tablinium_.*"

…..

Notes:

Curule chair: a curvy x-shaped folding stool with arms but no back. The traditional seat of Roman Magistrates.

_Sinus_: a pouch-like fold in the front of a correctly draped toga used as a pocket.

_Tablinium:_ A big, airy room off the atrium used by the heads of a Roman family as a home office and place for entertaining callers.


End file.
